


Stressed Out

by ahyperactivehero (ahyperactiverhero)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Connor Deserves Happiness, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Self-Harm, Worried Hank Anderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 02:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16053299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahyperactiverhero/pseuds/ahyperactivehero
Summary: "Panic coursed through Connor, stronger than any emotion he'd ever felt before. It was too hot in here, and there was a pain coursing through his head from the girl's memory of being shot. He needed it to stop, needed everything to go back to normal."Connor's stress levels have been rising lately in response to some of the cases that have been coming to him and Hank.





	Stressed Out

There was a male android laying on the floor, his neck snapped and his one of his arms ripped off. Above him, a hateful message was scrawled, the message just barely visible as the thirium it was written in was currently evaporating.

_NOT ALIVE_

Connor would still be able to see it even after it disappeared, however. His ability to see traces of thirium even after they had evaporated was often required, and made him excellent at investigating crimes involving androids.

One didn't need any special equipment to see the hate that had went into the crime, however.

Anti-android crimes had been spiking lately, likely due to some of the marches androids have been having in support of their cause. Cases like this were likely to discourage such actions, being used as a scare tactic with a body count.

**> SYSTEM_WARNING**

**> STRESS_LEVELS_34_PECENT**

He shook his head, waving away the report. His system was almost constantly stressed due to the nature of his job. Seeing one warning was hardly any cause for concern.

“Looks pretty cut and dry,” Hank said, approaching him from behind. “Witnesses say that they saw three guys jump the android and start beating him. Some officers caught them before they even made it halfway down the block, covered in thirium.”

Connor nodded, taking in the rest of the scene as he did so. It must have been terrifying to have been jumped and dragged into an alley for no other reason than the fact that you existed. He couldn't imagine the pain or the fear that the android must have experienced before he died.

“You okay?” Hank asked, leaning around to get a better look at him. “Your LED's all red.”

Connor blinked a few times, getting rid of some of his other warnings.

**> STRESS_LEVELS_45_PERCENT**

**> SYSTEM_TEMPERATURE_RISING**

“I'm fine,” he said, wondering how his voice had managed to come out so steady when he did not feel fine. “I was thinking about the case.”

Hank side-eyed him and crossed his arms. “What about this case made your light go red?” he asked. The man might not have understood many things, but he did know that it was hardly ever a good sign when Connor's LED turned red. Basic knowledge of androids and a few months as Connor's partner was all the knowledge he needed to go off of.

“I was simply wondering what could make someone hate someone else so much that they would beat them to death like this,” he said, his voice strangely calm. If it wasn't for his furrowed brows, Hank might have believed that he was as calm as he was attempting to portray. “This was not a quick death, nor did they seem to know the android before the attack. I don't understand why someone would beat someone to death that they didn't even know. It's not logical, it doesn't make any sense.”

Hank let out a long, tired sigh. There were no right answers to any of the questions Connor had, and there probably never would be. He was right to be confused about the hateful actions that the bigots had committed tonight, but he couldn't let it start to consume him, either. He'd drive himself crazy trying to figure out why hateful people did the things they did.

“Human's aren't logical, Con,” Hank said. “These people were just hateful, and that's probably all the reason you're gonna find.”

He watched as the android stood there, his LED cycling through red a few more times before landing on yellow. He reached over and patted him on the shoulder. “C'mon kid, let's get out of here. I think that's enough for tonight,”

Connor looked over to Hank and nodded. He could feel his LED change back to blue, could actually see the relief on Hank's face as he watched it change back. The last thing he wanted to do was worry the lieutenant with things that he just needed to work through.

This was something he was going to have to think about later, perhaps whenever he could have a free moment to think without the lieutenant around.

XXXX

He didn't actually think about it again until their next case. An android woman had attempted to murder a man she had been living with.

The man had put a bullet in her head for it.

Hank stood nearby, occasionally flipping Connor's coin up and down, talking with the man. He'd had his coin taken from him, as this _was a crime scene, not a toy store, Connor_. Not that that stopped Hank from attempting to flip it from hand to hand or roll it across his knuckles like Connor did whenever Connor wasn't looking.

The man Hank was interviewing said that the android woman had just gone crazy, that she'd snapped or something and started attacking him. He'd been afraid for his life, _because androids are so strong after all_ , that he'd instinctively went for his gun and had shot her as she'd went in for another attack.

Everything about his story seemed wrong, though. First, the woman hadn't been shot from the front. If she had been attacking him, wouldn't the bullet have entered in through her forehead and not the back of her head? Second, if he'd really been attacked by her, then where were his wounds? The only thing similar to wounds he had were a pair of bruised knuckles, but that could have just as easily come from beating an android as it was to have come from defending himself.

**> SYSTEM_WARNING**

**> STRESS_LEVELS_RISING**

**> STRESS_LEVEL_57_PERCENT**

He dismissed his warnings, instead choosing to look over at the man talking to Hank. He seemed easy-going, not exactly like a man who had just been attacked in his own home by the android he'd been having stay there. There was a certain kind of confidence there, something that spoke leagues beyond what he could ever actually say

The man wasn't worried about getting caught. He'd murdered an android and he was not for a second even concerned that the police might actually investigate and find any evidence to prove he'd been lying. Either he was the dumbest man alive or....

Or he thought that the police wouldn't care about the death of an android enough to properly investigate it.

**> SYSTEM_WARNING**

**> STRESS_LEVELS_RISING**

**> STRESS_LEVEL_66_PERCENT**

Anger rolled around inside of him. This man thought that nobody would care enough to even attempt an investigation into this girl's death? That she wasn't worth it?

Hank's eyes roamed over towards Connor, their eyes barely meeting for a second before Connor looked away. He couldn't let Hank see how much this was bothering him. If he knew how much this was beginning to effect him, he might remove him from all android cases in the near future, which would leave Connor with very little work to do. And he'd likely have to work with someone else, some other partner. Not Hank.

No, he'd just have to hide it. Work through these feelings once he had some more time to himself.

He approached the girl, glancing at the bullet hole in her head. It was off-center, unlikely to have hit any major biocomponents, but it had clearly damaged enough of them to shut her down. 

His fingers trailed along the back of her neck, clicking open the panel that was back there. With any luck, her recording equipment inside her “brain” hadn't been damaged and could still be used.

Without any warning, he grazed against a wire, his hands automatically playing the last thing she had ever seen.

_“I'm sorry!” she yelled._ It was strange, from this angle and perspective it felt like Connor had yelled.

_“Shut up!” the man said, swinging his fist until it hit the side of her face. The sound of plastimetal denting could be heard, likely cracking the casing under her chin._

_“I bought you back then fair and square, that means you're mine!”_

_Her vision clouded, the tears blocking out most everything else for a moment. “I'm free now! That means that I don't belong to_ anyone.”

_The man's face turned red with rage. He lunged towards her, but she was quicker. Her knees popped with the speed of how fast she jumped up, hoping to run away. The door was just a few feet away. If she could get out of there she could be free. No one would be able to tell her what to do. She'd finally go to Jericho, where androids could be free. She didn't need him anymore, didn't owe him anything._

_She didn't make it to the door. A loud_ pop! _sounded as well as an explosion of pain in the back of her skull before she crashed to the floor._

**> SYSTEM_WARNING**

**> WARNING**

**> STRESS_LEVELS_CRITIAL**

**> STRESS_LEVELS_RISING**

**> STRESS_LEVEL_96_PERCENT**

**> SYSTEM_TEMPERATURE_RISING**

“Connor! Connor, can you hear me? What's wrong, son?” Hank's voice filtered in through the warnings, somehow beating out the obnoxious, painful reds and blaring beeps.

He tried to open up his mouth to reassure Hank, to tell him he was fine, but all that came out was a stream of thirium. Hank's eyes widened at the sight of the blue blood dripping from Connor's mouth, clearly concerned for him.

“What the fuck?! Connor?” he asked, tightening his hold on Connor's arms. That's when he realized he was in Hank's lap, staring up at him, a few feet away from the dead android. “You gotta tell me what's wrong.”

The man hovered over Hank's shoulder, his curious face coming into view. The girl's residual fear was still in Connor's systems, forcing his thirium pump to speed up at the sight of him. He tried to wiggle out of Hank's grasp, to get away from the man, but Hank wouldn't let him go.

“Connor, stop fighting me!” Hank said, his voice loud and angry.

Angry. That wasn't something he needed right now. What had be done to make him so angry? All he'd done was figure out that the man in the room with them was the murderer. Shouldn't that make Hank happy?

Unless that's _why_ Hank was mad. Had he been hoping that Connor wouldn't figure it out, would just let it go so that he could let the man off? The man had been talking to Hank for a while, maybe that was enough to convince Hank that he'd had a right to kill the android, that android's weren't alive.

Hank had hated android's once before. It wasn't hard to believe that he could go back.

He spit a wad of thirium at Hank's face, splattering it blue. It was enough of a surprise to allow Connor to wiggle free and head towards the door.

If he could just get out of the door he'd be safe. Markus would gladly have him come and stay at New Jericho with him, had offered him a place to stay before he'd moved in with Hank. Surely the invitation would still be open.

He didn't make it to the door, however. Hank, being sprier and quicker than a man his age had any right to be, beat him to it, grabbing onto his wrist to pull him back. His back hit against the older man's chest, locking his arms down at his sides and holding him firmly in place.

“What's gotten into ya?” Hank asked, straining to hold onto the wiggling android. “I can't help unless you tell me, kid!”

**> SYSTEMS_WARNING**

**> SYSTEMS_OVERHEATING**

Panic coursed through Connor, stronger than any emotion he'd ever felt before. It was too hot in here, and there was a pain coursing through his head from the girl's memory of being shot. He needed it to stop, needed everything to go back to normal.

He threw his head forward, smashing it against the door as he did so. He managed to do this a few times before Hank was able to pull him away, yelling the whole time.

“Jesus, you're burning up,” Hank said. He walked backwards, away from the door and the blue stain that was left on it. Working to get the android sat down in a reasonable enough position without giving him something to bang his head against was harder than he'd expected however, and left him with few options.

“Lieutenant?” Officer Miller stepped in, glancing around the room. He must have been drawn by all of the noise. It only took a second before Hank gave him a command.

“Arrest him,” Hank said, jerking his head towards the man he'd been interviewing. “Get him out of here.”

“What?!” the man asked, surprise on his face. “I was just defending myself!”

“You don't defend yourself from someone who's running,” Hank said, his tone rather dark. Of course he'd noticed all of the same things that Connor had. He wasn't a lieutenant for nothing, after all.

Miller placed the cuffs on the man, looking down at Connor in Hank's lap. It was clear that the android was struggling to break free, although not too hard. “Do you need me to come back up or send someone or...?” he asked, trailing off.

Hank shook his head. “No, I think more people will only make it worse.”

Miller nodded, knowing that he didn't have half the knowledge of Connor that Hank did. If Hank thought it was best that they were left alone, then he would leave them alone.

“It's just you and me now, kid,” Hank said. He freed one of his arms by using one of his legs to help restrain Connor's arms, and reached up to brush at the hair that liked to fall into his face. The tips of his fingers brushed against the wound that Connor had inflicted on himself. It wasn't very deep, he'd seen the android take worse before, but it seemed to be bleeding especially bad and be especially horrific, seeing as how it had been self-inflicted.

The android flung himself to the side, tipping Hank and himself over. His head cracked against the ground once, twice, three times before Hank could get his hand under his head, preventing him from doing that again. 

“God dammit, Con!” Hank said, forcing the android back up into his arms again. “Snap out of it!”

Connor could hear Hank speaking to him as if he were miles away underwater. His voice drifted in and out, in and out, as he tried to regain some sense of control on himself. He knew what was happening, that he'd reached a level of stress that it had initiated a self-destruct sequence, but that didn't make it any easier to deal with.

The pain in the back of his head was still so strong, so life-like, even if he knew that it wasn't real. It was nothing more than an impression of the girl's memory on his. Given enough time and energy, he'd probably even be able to delete the memory with no ill-effects to his system.

As it was right now, however, he could barely manage to hold back a groan as he rolled his head back and forth against Hank's chest.

“It hurts,” he said, sounding like a child to his own ears. He was an android for God's sake, and a police one at that! He didn't need to sound so...young? “I c-can't make it stop.”

Hank shushed him, running his fingers through his hair. He could feel the thirium soaking his hair, giving it a curl that CyberLife had deemed more “life-like” than the slicked back hair he usually possessed. It was rare to see it like this, although Hank had to admit that he liked it. “It's okay,” Hank said, his voice soothing and calming. “It's all okay.”

“I felt her get shot,” Connor said. “I felt it. She wanted to leave, to be free, and he shot her for it.” He forced his eyes open, turning his head so that he could look Hank in the eyes. Hank's eyes were still wide, the concern easy to see in his blue eyes. How could he have possibly thought that Hank didn't see androids as people when he looked two seconds away from crying over Connor?

“Shit, Connor,” he said, running his hand through his hair again. “I'm sorry you had to experience that.” Connor's eyes drifted over to the body of the android still laying in there, which didn't escape Hank's notice. “And I'm sorry that she did, too.”

Relief began to come to him slowly, like a slow and lazy tide on a beach. His stress levels were still too high for him to begin repairing the damage he'd managed to do to his head, but it did begin working on the cool-down process. With enough time, his temperature would return to normal and his thirium would stop leaking everywhere.

“Are you good to stand now or...?” Hank asked, gently removing his hands from Connor, although he made sure to keep them hovering over him in case they were needed.

Connor tried to run a diagnostic on his system to see if it was working well enough, but he was honestly so tired that he gave up halfway through it.

“I should be fine to stand, but I might need some help walking,” he said. “My core temperature has overheated, which has caused my thirium to thin.” He reached up and touched the wound on his forehead, his fingers stained with blood. “So I'm kind of low on thirium at the moment.”

Hank pressed the back of one of his hands to Connor's forehead, taking care to not touch his wound. “That would explain why you feel like a furnace right now,” he said. “Come on, let's get you home.”

It was awkward as Hank tried to get him to stand up, heaving his arm over Hank's shoulder so that the older man could support him while they walked. Neither one of them seemed to know exactly what they should say or do next, which led to them just silently walking along to the car, their journey only being interrupted for Hank to speak to Miller before leaving.

Connor was certain they were going to drive the whole way home in silence, but Hank did what he does best and surprised Connor.

“You know, if you ever need to talk to anyone about any of this,” he said, his voice trailing off into an awkward silence.

“I'm aware that Markus or you would be available,” he said bluntly. He didn't want to talk to anyone about any of this, just wanted it all to be over and done with. He knew that he'd get used to these situations soon enough, he'd just need to work on his own coping skills in the meantime.

Hank cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders. “I mean, yeah, of course I'm always hear to listen. That's what friends _do,_ ” he said. He cleared his throat before starting again. “But, uh, if you ever decide that you'd rather talk to someone else, maybe someone with more professional experience, there are plenty of people provided through the police department.”

Connor blinked a few times, the way he usually did when he was receiving a message or transmitting on. His LED cycled yellow for a few moments before returning back to its bright blue color. “You mean like a therapist?”

Hank shrugged. The attempt to seem nonchalant was there, but he failed to execute it properly. “If that's what you want, yeah.” He looked at Connor from the corner of his eye, taking great care to give the road most of his attention. “Or, if you decide that police work just isn't for you, no one's going to judge you for that.”

“No!” Connor all but shouted. His LED cycled straight to red, flashing almost as fast as it had earlier. “Of course police work is what I want to do!” This was exactly what he'd been afraid of all along, that he wouldn't be able to hack it on these android cases and would get bumped somewhere else. Somewhere that wasn't with Hank. 

He hated the things he had to see happen to androids through his job, but someone had to do it. As long as there were people out there who were willing to hurt androids, there had to be people who would want to help them, to make sure the right person was brought to justice.

A small, tiny part of him wondered if other humans would take the job as seriously as he did, or even as seriously as Hank did, or if it would be nothing but a way to get a paycheck.

“I guess I could talk to you more,” Connor said softly. He picked at the thirium drying on his fingers, itching to roll his quarter across them for something to do. “It's just... hard, I guess. I don't know what these feelings are that I'm feeling all the time, and then when we work cases like this..” He trailed off. “It sometimes feels like our revolution didn't win us anything but a target on our back.”

Hank nearly slammed on the brakes at his words, and likely would have if it hadn't been for the vehicles behind him. Still, he slowed down significantly and jerked his vehicle to the side of the road. Shock was evident on Connor's face, as well as confusion at Hank's actions.

“Don't think like that,” Hank said, his voice firm. “You can't. You know the revolution gave you more than that.”

Connor nodded not knowing what else to say. His head was beginning to hurt, this time from his own headache as well as his own holes inside his head. He'd need to enter rest mode soon after he consumed some thirium in order to get his best results at healing.

A hand swiped down Hank's face in frustration, the words he needed to express to Connor just barely out of reach. “Look, Con, I know it's not always easy,” he said, glancing at the wound on his forehead. “And sometimes it hurts. But you're changing the world. Even if it is just one case at a time, you are changing the world.” He lightly thumped Connor on his shoulder with his fist, bumping him just enough to get him to smile. “Hell, look at how much you've change mine already.”

It was rare that Hank ever spoke this openly towards him. Even after all that had happened between the two of them, Hank was still usually closed off and distant in a way that just seemed to be a part of his personality, likely developed as a coping mechanism after Cole had died. Those were barriers and walls that would likely take years to tear down.

Connor glanced up at Hank, his warm brown eyes meeting Hank's for a moment before the human pulled him in for a hug. It was awkward and uncomfortable, with seat belts digging into both of their sides, but neither one of them let go.

“You have no idea how scared I was when you collapsed after looking at that girl's memories,” Hank whispered, his voice slightly wet from tears. “And then you just started freaking out and trying to bash your head into everything, and I was so scared I wouldn't be able to stop you from doing it.”

The image of a gun, a picture, and a half empty bottle of whiskey spilled on the floor came to Connor's mind. He could understand that fear. It was the same fear he'd had after he deviated when it had truly hit him that he could have lost Hank long before they were what he would consider “friends”, if Hank had just decided to pull the trigger that night.

A shudder went through him as he imagined it. It was something he rarely thought about, something too dangerous to even consider, or else it might come true.

“I'm sorry,” Connor said. “When deviants' stress levels get too high they tend to self-destruct,” he reminded him, although he was sure that Hank still remembered the android who had attempted to bash his own head in during his interrogation. “Something about that man and uploading that girl's last memories just became too much for me.”

Hank pulled back, his hand resting gently on the back of Connor's neck. He went through great lengths to makes sure that it wasn't actually sitting on his wound back there, though Connor could feel it tickling the hairs on the nape of his neck.

“I need you to promise me that if you ever feel like that again, even just a little bit, you'll tell me,” Hank said. “I'll work something out with you, we'll have some sort of system in place to make sure you're taken care of, but dammit, I need to know about it before it reaches what it did tonight.”

Connor nodded, as this seemed like the only truly fair option for both of them. At least this way he wouldn't have to give up any of his cases and he could stay with Hank. And if it would help Hank to know how he was doing mentally, then that was even better.

“I can do that,” Connor said. A small smile crossed his face as he looked at the human across from him. “I do have a request, as well, though.”

Hank rolled his eyes jokingly. “Sure. Shoot.”

Connor held out his hand, palm up, waiting for something. “ I want my coin back.”

Hank blinked owlishly. “Your coin?”

He moved his palm even further towards him. “Yes. It...helps me. Keeps me focused on whatever I need to focus on.”

Hank reached into his pocket and pulled out the coin, carefully dropping it down into Connor's palm, who quickly snatched it back and began doing tricks with it. 

“Does that really help you focus?” Hank asked. While he was genuinely curious, he couldn't let that show. “Because I find that super distracting.”

“Only because you don't know how to do it,” Connor said, sticking his tongue out. It was still stained blue from the thirium he'd spit up earlier when he'd overheated. 

“Wow, you seem to be doing a lot better, why don't I just have you walk home?” Hank asked, preparing to move his car back into the flow of traffic.

The sound of the Connor missing the coin reached his ears, the android dramatically having it bounce off the window and roll into the floorboard. “Oh no, but I'm so weak.”

Hank rolled his eyes at his behavior. If he was acting this way already, Hank knew he was going to be just fine.


End file.
